This Faith
by SimplyFinn
Summary: How can a man of faith come to terms with how he truly feels? He may need some convincing. Rated T: nothing explicit but heavily implied slash. Read at your own discretion.


**This Faith.**

Night had descended on Kirkwall. The streets were cold, with only the flickering lanterns to light the many winding passages and archways. Light from within the luxurious estates of High Town were being extinguished as the nobility retired to their chambers, but in the recently renovated Hawke residence, a few lights still flickered.

Adrian Hawke climbed from the lukewarm waters of his bath and wrapped himself in the fluffy white towel he'd left by the sink. He took a hand cloth and wiped the remaining water from his torso, face, and scalp. Glancing into the mirror, he tried to remember what exactly made him decide to experiment with fire spells. A soft knock at the door made him turn away from his reflection and open the door a crack. His mother stood on the other side, looking, as she had since they had moved into the estate, rather content and younger by the day.

"Adrian, dear, you have a guest. A lovely young man...Sebastian, is it?" she asked. Hawke nodded, somewhat taken aback.

"I've shown him to your study and poured him a drink, will you be long?"

"No, no I..." Hawke mumbled, dousing the light with a wave of his hand and stepping out of the room. "Tell him I'll be right there."

"Well, do put some clothes on first dear."

Hawke looked down at his towel and smirked at his mother.

"I think I look fine as I am."

He ducked into his room to avoid being clipped around the ear and shut the door. His robes were being washed, and frankly he never liked them; he actually preferred to have his legs individually wrapped. He picked out some white cotton trousers and a matching shirt and made for the study, his bare feet swift and silent on the wooden floor.

Sebastian was standing by the small fire in the study, still armoured and sporting his bow, with a crystal goblet in one hand and the other tapping idly on his leg.

"I swear, your armour gets whiter every time I see you." Hawke said, closing the door behind him. Sebastian jumped all but out of his skin at the sudden interruption of his thoughts. He turned to face Hawke and almost dropped his drink.

"Hawke! You startled me there...I...Hawke, why does your head closely resemble an egg?" Sebastian asked, frowning in utter confusion. Hawke laughed and crossed the room, indicating for Sebastian to be seated in one of the fine leather armchairs while he poured himself a drink.

"Well, they tell you never to play with fire. For mages it's a little more difficult than that. The ponytail wasn't working for me anyway. So what brings such royalty to my study at this hour?"

Hawke pulled an armchair closer to Sebastian and sat down, taking a sip of the fine Antivan brandy he'd poured.

"I wanted to ask your advice on something...it is difficult, however. Hawke, we are...friends, are we not?" Sebastian asked, now sounding unsure of himself and altogether a little nervous.

"I'd be heartbroken to discover otherwise." Hawke said with a light chuckle. "What's on your mind?"

Sebastian drew a long breath and took a disconcertingly large swig of his brandy. Something told Hawke his pious archer companion was uncomfortable.

"I...I find myself in an unusual situation. My dedication to the Chantry forbids me from engaging in...certain activities, you see, but recently I've found myself questioning...well, all of it."

Hawke shifted in his seat and nodded for him to continue.

"It's late so I'll get to the point. I think I may have developed feelings for someone that go beyond what the Chantry would allow." Sebastian explained, apparently finding it hard to keep his gaze at any one place for any length of time.

"Ah, I see." Hawke said with a sly grin. "I should have guessed it was women troubles. I'm flattered you came to me but...well, you know I don't really walk that particular path, right?"

"Yes, I do recall that evening in the Rose, perturbing though it was. The thing is...that's exactly why I came to you."

It was Hawke's turn to almost drop his glass, and he shot to the edge of his seat in surprise.

"Are you saying you...prefer the company of men?" Hawke asked, draining his glass.

"_A_ man. I think. I'm very confused on the matter." Sebastian said, setting his now empty glass aside and raking his hands through his hair.

"Okay...so lets start at the start. This lucky sod...how exactly do you feel about him?" Hawke asked, getting into his mystery-solving state of mind.

"Can I be frank?" Sebastian asked, looking up from examining his navel.

"I'm sure Frank wont mind all that much, fire away." Hawke cracked with a smirk.

"Like...I want to take him into my bedchamber and not leave for a very long time."

Hawke sat in silence for a moment, examining Sebastian's stony, serious expression and grave tone of voice. Despite himself, he burst into laughter, so hard his sides ached. Even Sebastian started to chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

"And do what, recite the whole damn Chant?" Hawke asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Don't make me spell it out for you, Hawke. This is serious." Sebastian said, still smirking to himself. Hawke nodded sarcastically.

"Oh yes, I can see that. I thought the Chantry had some things to say about that sort of thing?"

"Rather specific things, yes. Hence my trepidation." Sebastian muttered.

"You're only human, Sebastian. These feelings are natural and...well, you know I don't really go in for the Chantry's teachings all that much. I'd say everyone deserves to have a vice or two, who's to say this isn't yours?" Hawk said, surprised at his own reasoning.

"Vices aren't something I've ever...indulged in." Sebastian admitted, although Hawke was hardly surprised. He stood and took their glasses to refill them.

"So, is it purely a physical thing or is there more?" he asked, pouring two healthy measures.

"I...well, he's charming, courageous, noble...and so much more besides. I cant imagine any one person being blessed with so many virtues and yet...no, it's not simply physical desire at work here."

Sebastian took his glass from Hawke and took another sip. Hawke considered for a moment getting the archer blind drunk and ploughing him for answers, and given the topic of discussion it sounded like he was in need of ploughing, one way or another.

"So you're enjoying a plate of romantic goo with a side of lust? Sounds like a great time to me. How does he feel about you?"

"I'm fairly sure he doesn't feel that way about me." Sebastian replied, sounding quite down about the whole affair.

"Well I have to say, this is all quite out of character for you, Sebastian. That said...hidden depths and all...you should tell him. In the spirit of fair play and all, brutal honesty is probably your best way forward." Hawke advised. Sebastian suddenly became very interested in the floor once again.

"That's exactly what I thought. I thought it only fair...and so here I am."

Hawke nodded in agreement, and was about to say something encouraging, until his brain caught up with what he'd just heard, or thought he'd heard. His mind went blank for a few moments until he was left with only one option.

"I...sorry, you lost me a bit there." he said, frowning to himself. Sebastian groaned in frustration, pressing his palms into his eyes as if trying to stem a bad headache.

"It's you, Hawke. Maker help me, it's you. I'm sorry...I just don't know what to do any more."

Hawke tried to ignore his impulse to dive out of the window and away from the situation and concentrate, but for some reason a small part of his mind was jumping for joy.

"Just...let me get this right. The man you want to take to your cambers and _not_ recite the Chant of Light with...this noble, charming..._bloke_...is me? I am him? You have a crush on me?" he asked.

"As I understand it, infatuation goes away with time. We've been working together for two years with no such reprieve. I'm sorry, Hawke." Sebastian said, locking eyes with him for the first time that evening. Hawke shrugged and tossed back his drink.

"What for? You obviously have great taste in men."

"Can you not be so brazen about this, please?" Sebastian countered, glaring at him a little.

"Sorry, I'm just in shock. Also excited but I think you'd prefer me in shock right now."

"What are you talking about?" Sebastian asked, looking confused. Hawke shook his head and smiled.

"It might not have occurred to you, Sebastian, but you're a devastatingly handsome young Prince who can put an arrow through a skull at two hundred paces. And your accent is...well. Long and short of it is, from my perspective, I have the most desirable thing that walks upright in my study, telling me he's carrying a fairly sizeable torch for me. Excuse me if my mind melts away for a short while."

"How do you know how sizeable my torch is?" Sebastian asked, smirking at the floor. Somehow he'd always found Hawke's particular vernacular to be uplifting, even in the most grave of situations. His wit was infectious.

"Now that's more like it. I think another drink is in order." Hawke said, perking up and leaping for the bottle.

"I think I should decline...this is rather fine brandy and I am not used to..."

Sebastian was cut short by Hawke filling his glass. A mixture of relief, guilt and apprehension mixed now with the muddying sensations of intoxication, including a heat, deep in his stomach, that he had not felt since he was a but a lad, long before he knew the burn of brandy.

"Let me...set your mind at ease a little." Hawke said, setting himself back into his chair.

"You're in a position not many find themselves in. One the one hand, you have your devotion to the Chantry, your beliefs...normally that'd be hard enough, if I were a woman."

"But you're not..." Sebastian muttered into his glass.

"No, I'm not. The Chantry would allow a chaste marriage to a woman, at best, but a man? An apostate? A male apostate? Well...if you want to play by their rules, you're out of luck. That's probably why I never set much store by what Man has to say about the Maker."

"What are you saying Hawke? I should abandon everything I am for...what? An uncertain chance? An idea, no, less than that, a hope? Of something that will never be accepted?"

Hawke shrugged, tipping back his glass.

"Men have killed and died for less."

"Then what of the Maker? How do I face Him when my time comes? Can I live knowing when I die, I'll go to Him in failure?"

Sebastian was now up and pacing, apparently at war with himself. Hawke decided to take swift action, before what little hope he held for the archer was lost. He abandoned his glass as he stood, strode over to the archer and took his hand.

"Sebastian, don't say anything, but come with me now. Just...come with me. You need to see something."

Hawke led him, without another word, from the study and up the stairs, to the highest room in the house and out onto the back balcony. No one ever came out here, as the only view was that of the side of a building, but there was a ladder set into the wall, which Hawke climbed, bringing him out onto the roof of his house.

From the roof all of Kirkwall could be seen, all the way to the docks and the seas beyond.

Hawke did not have the words to describe the way the light of the moon glimmered off the soft ebb and flow of the tide; it was as though the sea had never been there at all, only a great black abyss where stars were born and died in the blink of an eye. The sky itself was a vast expanse of black and dark blue, littered with more stars than there were thoughts in a lifetime, and soft clouds that fluttered along in the high winds. A great pathway of stars arched across the night sky, like a road leading to the heavens.

Sebastian joined Hawk on the roof and stood beside him, taking in the view for himself.

"Have you ever seen something so beautiful in all your life?" Hawke asked, glancing over to his friend.

"I have seen sunsets and sunrises...each as beautiful as the last and the next." Sebastian replied.

"If I were to tell you one thing of the Maker, it would be this. He did _that_." Hawke said, nodding to the world that lay before them. "There is no hand of Man that could ever hope to match the beauty of His world. He makes it all, everything that happens, good or ill, it's all Him. He made you, he made me; flawed, yes but he made us still and he gave us the power to choose. He never gave us the Chantry though, we made that for ourselves. All the rules that they put on us? Man did that, not Him. He never said you couldn't look at me and feel as you do, so how does the Chantry have the right?"

"There is...an odd sense to your words." Sebastian admitted. "It is difficult, however."

"Oh it always is Seb'. It's never easy, it's never clean or simple, but if your biggest fear is standing before Him a failure, then in denying the gifts He has given you and not being true to yourself, you're only condemning yourself to that outcome. I cant imagine a deity that would deny it's children their happiness. He is unconditional love, He is acceptance, He is forgiveness and He gave us the world so we could be happy. I don't believe in the Chantry...but I do believe in Him."

Moments rolled into minutes without a word between the two. Sebastian felt more at ease now than he had in over a year, Hawk's words had gone a large way to repairing the gnawing hole in his heart. He felt the light, cool touch of a hand entwining itself with his own, then a hand round his waist as Hawke moved behind him and held him gently. He could feel the tip of the shorter man's nose at the base of his neck, just below his hairline, and his steady rise and fall of his chest against his back. Sebastian felt as he did every time he let an arrow fly: calm, still and at peace.

"If I were to choose this, choose you...I'd not be failing Him." Sebastian said aloud, more for himself than anything else.

"Man knows nothing of the Maker, save that which he feels in his heart to be true. You cant write a book or a Chant about Him, not really, because He goes so far beyond all that." Hawke said, slowly turning Sebastian around to face him. Before the archer could say another word, Hawke leaned up to place a soft kiss on the taller man's lips. Sebastian didn't react, not right away, but when he did Hawke found him to be tender, warm and comforting. It was as though they'd done this a million times.

By the hand, Hawke led him from the roof and back inside. In his bedchamber, he silently removed the plates of armour and layers of hide that Sebastian wore, until the man stood before him in his underclothes, lean and tall, with pale skin and rough hands; Hawke was practically drooling on the inside. Outwardly, for his friends benefit, he remained calm, composed and acted with deft, gentle purpose.

"You are..._so_ beautiful, Sebastian. He broke the mould when He made you." Hawke said, blushing slightly at his own honesty.

"I um...I'm feeling a little exposed, if I'm honest." Sebastian said, wringing his hands for want of what to do with them.

"It's a tad unfair, I admit. Would you care to help me out of my shirt?"

His hands trembled at first, but slowly the buttons of Hawk's cotton trappings came undone. He let Sebastian find his own way, and oddly he started at the bottom, working up. His fingers slipped one or twice, and his breath caught in his throat when Hawke passed his fingertips over the taught skin of his stomach and down, over his hips. Eventually it was done, and Sebastian pushed the soft cloth over Hawks shoulders and down his arms to let it pool on the floor.

Hawke was taken by surprise when the archer kissed him, for it was sudden and passionate and to a degree desperate. Hawke knew the feeling all too well; to have in hand that which you had desired for so long, what could Hawke do but push the taller man back until they tumbled onto the bed, and kiss him like his life depended on it.

He'd never admitted it, not even to himself, but Sebastian was everything he wanted in a man. Every virtue, every flaw and strength of the man touched him and made his heart cry out for him. He wanted this to last. And so he pulled away.

"I wont pretend I don't know hat you desire..." Hawke said, rolling his hips a little against his almost-lover. "...and if your hands take it upon themselves to wander a little, you'd find that I _deeply_ desire it also."

As if on cue, Sebastian's hands started their decent south, towards the waist of Hawk's cotton trousers. Hawke caught his hands, however, and held them to his chest.

"Not tonight though. Tonight has been eventful enough. Instead...spend the night with me. Sleep beside me, hold me close and rest. When you wake up, you're head will be clear, and you'll see truth of what you want, one way or another. Say you will..." Hawke asked, resting his cheek against the toned chest that lay before him.

"You're...asking me to sleep on it?" Sebastian asked with some hint of amusement in his voice.

"_With_ it. On it might be a tad...uncomfortable. I just don't want you to get into something now and regret it in the morning. That step...it changes everything."

Sebastian nodded; he understood, and was thankful for Hawk's consideration. Hawke kissed his chest once more and hauled himself off him, pulling back the covers and slipping into his bed. Sebastian joined him, and pulled the smaller man to himself, wrapping him in his arms. It felt right, and right then, that mattered more than anything. Hawke snuggled into Sebastian's arms and with a click of his fingers, doused the candles, plunging the room into darkness. Sebastian chuckled to himself.

"Show off..." he muttered.

Hawke smiled against the archers neck and slid his hands up his back to hold him.

"Love...you don't know the half of it."

* * *

A.N: This has been a long time coming, I haven't written anything meaningful in a long, _long_ time. For anyone still following me and reading my work, I offer you my deepest thanks. I hope you enjoy this piece, I may, at some point, go back and attend to my other works since they no longer represent my style as a writer (honestly, they make me cringe). Toodles xx


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